


Long Live The King

by seriousfic



Series: Ultimacy [2]
Category: X-Men (Ultimateverse)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Shapeshifting, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott follows Magneto's orders. Magneto just ordered him to stand by while he destroys humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Scott came to not in the warm sweat of fervent dreams and bad memories, but with the feel of cool scales under his cheek. His head was in Mystique’s lap, her fingers stroking his hair from one end of his visor to the other. Like he was a small child, or a lap dog.

 

In front of him and Raven, the TV was on. News footage from New York. Amateur, badly pixelated, looped. A few of the people who’d streamed into the dark city, to help or scavenge, had brought cameras with them. Everything else was knocked out. The TV was muted, but the closed captioning talked about looting, rioting, fire in the streets.

 

Scott rose off the bed, looking over to Raven to find her back in her white attire. Rogue was nowhere to be seen. Scott had to imagine Raven had gotten her to safety. “How bad?” he asked.

 

Raven didn’t answer right away. “The Banshee caught up with you. You’ve been out for six hours.”

 

“New York. What’d he _do?”_

“Electromagnetic pulse,” she said, confirming more than telling. “Downed the SHIELD Helicarrier, a few airliners. It’s more than we’ve ever had before.” Causalities. Civilian casualties. “A lot more.”

 

His head was pounding. His eyes felt like they were burning hotter than ever, full of energy that needed to _explode._ “Where is he?”

 

“There’s more,” Raven said. She stayed on the bed. “Xavier.”

 

Scott just looked at her.

 

“He’s gone.”

 

Scott’s visor was still pointed at her, but he was no longer looking. He thought in gulps. They came slow and hard. “Erik wouldn’t—“

 

“That’s not Erik anymore. Not any Erik I’ve ever known. I’ve never seen him like this before. I didn’t know he was capable of—“

 

“Yes you did,” Scott interrupted. His voice had been hard before. Now it was steel. “We all did. Because no one else was willing to shoulder the load. Get on TV and declare war on the human race. But we knew this was coming.”

 

Raven wouldn’t say either way. Her blue face was spectacularly inscrutable. There were no lines to read in the scales that masked her. “You can’t stop him on your own. And not without killing him.”

 

“I’ve killed better men for less.”

 

“Easier said than done. I have more Banshee. It’ll even the odds.”

 

“If it weren’t for the Banshee, I could’ve stopped this hours ago! What makes you think I can control it?”

 

“I believe in you,” she said simply. She held out the inhaler. “Whatever it takes, Scott. That’s what a leader _does._ ”

 

He took it from her. A moment later, his blood was electric, his eyes tearing up with molten lead. Soon. He would feed the fire soon.

 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

 

Raven drew a lock of hair behind her head. “Maybe you’re just that good a fuck, Summers.”

 

***

 

Magneto got on the PA as Scott went through the complex. Raven had said everyone was in the shelters, barricaded against a human counterattack. All but Erik. He’d be welcoming it.

 

_“And God say unto Noah: ‘The end of all flesh is come before me: for the Earth is filled with violence through them; and behold, I will destroy them with the Earth.’”_

 

He found Erik in the trophy room. This had to end.

 

They were surrounded by mutant body parts—claws, tails, wings, compound eyes. Taken off the hunted. Made into souvenirs. Magneto stood in the middle of it, a shade of his former shelf. A cloak and a helmet. That was all.

 

“Scott,” he said. “I was wondering when you’d get here. I take it you disapprove…”

 

Scott fired. His optic blast rushed out of him like a flood through a broken dam, crashing into the electromagnetic shield Erik threw up. Rivulets of power were flung from the impact, shattering glass display cases, gouging the walls. And at the end, Magneto was still standing.

 

“You’re upset then.” Erik lowered his hands. Scott stood there. Seething. Planning. “It’s the only possible solution, Scott. Strip away the diseased growth of this cancerous society. Reduce humanity to the barbarism it cloaks in hypocrisy. And after they’re exiled to the long night, man and mutant alike, let our natural superiority shine through. We will lead them, as we always should have. You, I, Raven—we’ll be priest-kings of the new order, tending our flocks with such gentle wisdom that none of them shall remember why they ever re—“

 

Scott fired again, his power battering itself against Erik’s shields. The blast dug into the floorboards, ripping them up before and on either side of Erik, scoring the ceiling as well, clawing into it until insulation caught fire, crossbeams fell and bands of wire hung down like gutted innards.

 

Erik stood there. “This is about Charles, then.”

 

“Don’t say his name _._ ”

 

His next optic blast was a supernova, nearly filling the room, nearly flowing back against Scott. Erik stepped into it, an icebreaker sawing into the Arctic. The concussive attack sizzled around him, making his energies cackle white-hot in Scott’s red fury.

 

Erik stopped a few handspans away from Scott. The hem of his cape had been shredded by the coruscating shields. It smoldered faintly. “Have you ever wondered why you’re so obsessed with Jean Grey? Was it love at first sight, Scott? Do you believe that actually happens in the real world? Or is it just that as long as you can remember, you’ve had this _need_ for her? Like an addiction, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Scott’s fingers were at his visor, but the dial remained still. “That was a long time ago.”

 

“But the wound is ever fresh, ever bleeding, is it not? Why is that? Why was such a cunning boy as you consumed by a woman you kept at a distance? Until she reciprocated, of course. Who would’ve expected that?”

 

“Thousands will die because of what you’ve done today—“

 

“ _Millions_ will die if you stop me. _Listen to me, Scott. **Think.**_ You’re not Xavier’s lapdog anymore. You knew his beliefs. He didn’t care for my methods, but he was just as devoted to his cause. What would he do to make his motley band of freaks into superheroes? Surely, you did notice how photogenic the five of you were, how well-suited your powers were to TV cameras, gossip rags. No one like the Blob or Toad in his ranks. What a run of luck that the first mutants he found were all young, attractive _badasses_.”

 

“You’re accusing someone else of moral grays?”

 

“All I do, I do for mutants. I’ve never lifted a hand against my own kind without provocation. And I’ve never lied to you. Now use that intellect, Scott. Think of how useful a Lord and First Lady would be to Charles’s media circus. Young, white, attractive, heterosexual. You and Jean were meant to be together, they say. But _who meant you to be together?”_  
  


“My feelings are real. I know what I felt.”

 

Magneto took a step closer. Scott twisted the dial, but not all the way. Not enough to hit the first notch.

 

“Relationships are transitory, fragile, especially at your age. And yet, you and Jean were paired off from the moment the two of you met. Like animals on Noah’s ark. Tell me—doesn’t that seem the slightest bit suspicious? How is it that even now, you love Jean and not the woman who’s sharing your bed?”

 

“I don’t love Jean.”

 

“You don’t _want_ to.” Another step closer. “You can’t help it. You will always have her in your heart. Because he _put her there._ ”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“You can’t serve two masters, boy. Stop clinging to him like a child’s blanket and embrace the world I will give you. Our work is almost complete, Scott. A world finally at peace, finally made _safe._ It’s not my will—it’s God’s.”

 

“I can’t—“ Scott’s finger was sweating on the dial. “I can’t let you. I’m supposed to be—supposed to be—“

 

“You’re not his lackey anymore. Stop pretending to be; you’ve tasted blood. Either kill me or help me. There is no more compromise. Become the man you need to be. Say it. Admit it. You want them dead as much as I do.”

 

There was a terrible clarity the Banshee brought upon him. A loud, cold-hot light. It let him see the scars where the different hims rubbed up against each other. He was no longer an X-Man, but he wasn’t in the Brotherhood either. A killer, but not a murderer. A soldier who didn’t take orders. He was nothing. A shadow cast by both Xavier and Magneto.

 

But he knew who he wasn’t.

 

Scott slapped Erik’s hand away. “Never. Even if I can’t kill you, I won’t be like you.”

 

And Erik’s hand came back, now lodging itself on Scott’s throat. It tightened, the metal gloves enhancing his grip tenfold. “You can never be part of a world you won’t fight for.”

 

The red-gloved hands came to Erik’s neck from behind. In his shadow, behind his cloak and armor, Scott had never seen Wanda approach. She put the inhibitor collar on him as easily as she would tie a noose.

 

Erik looked back. Saw her step out of the way. And then Scott twisted the dial like he was breaking a bone.

 

The optic blast picked Erik up, pulled him back, but he actually hung onto Scott’s neck for a few seconds. Then he was gone, thrown back, carried off. He tumbled through the debris of the ripped-out floor, hit the stone wall with a bone-jarring, bone- _breaking_ impact before Scott twisted the dial back off.

 

“He would’ve wanted it this way,” Wanda said, “if he were in his right mind. He’d rather die than betray the cause, but that’s exactly what he’s done, turning the world against us. Ruining all your work. We can’t let him speak for us anymore.”

 

“No, we can’t.” It wasn’t Scott saying it. It was Raven. She stepped through the doorway, her white dress pristine. It hadn’t been anywhere near the destruction.

 

Scott had underestimated her. He’d known she wouldn’t chose sides, but he hadn’t foreseen how quickly she would arrive to congratulate the winning team.

 

“We all know what needs to be done,” she continued, nodding to Erik. “Even him. Letting him live would be so—Xavier.”

 

“Then get it over with,” Scott said, eying her. An order.

 

If the three of them were going to bring down Caesar, all their knives would have to be bloody.

 

“Not just yet,” Raven countered. “There’s a reason we’ve kept him around so long. Crazy or not, he is powerful. And we can still use that power.”

 

“You can’t control him,” Wanda insisted. “No one can.”

 

“I don’t need to control him. Just how he dies.”

 

***

 

It was an hour later that Rogue was brought before Erik. Raven needed time to make preparations; but not for her new role as majordomo. Already, she had taken over for an exhausted Scott, sparing Wanda the messy details by sending her away, and Scott to comfort her. The two of them needed to bond. It would smooth the transition.

 

They were in Raven’s private room, in a wing off the facility off from the trophy room that had recently been devastated. A small fire was consuming the evidence of what had happened. It cast its light into Raven’s chambers, even through the one-way glass. The slight orange tint of the flame invaded the stark white light that had guided Raven’s efforts. When Rogue came in, she saw Erik secured to an armchair. Raven had bound his wrists and ankles with iron manacles. A long time ago, she had not cared for the way Erik referred to her.

 

“Have you ever drained a man to death?” Raven asked, her voice solicitous. A mother’s voice.

 

Rogue nodded. “He was trying to—he’s still inside me. And he wasn’t as strong as Mr. Lehnsherr.”

 

Raven nodded sagely. “Magneto was always the sum of two parts. The man and the power. The man has outlived his usefulness. The power, not so much. I’m going to need you to take it. It has to live on after ‘Mr. Lehnsherr.’”

 

“He’ll be in my head. I’ll suck him right up with all the rest. He’ll use my hands and kill you all.”

 

“Not if there’s nothing of _him_ for you to absorb.” And with that said, Raven removed Erik’s helmet—she’d wanted to leave him a little dignity for Rogue’s last meeting with him. Underneath, she had already shaved his head. Now she removed a portion of that scalp, setting it on a nearby table. No blood came from the clean incision: Raven had been meticulous in tying off the major arteries before she sawed into the skull. Through the small hole, Rogue could glimpse his brain. It was pinkly gray, or grayly pink, and Rogue thought she saw it throb before she looked away.

 

Raven allowed her to cover her eyes and ears as she did the dirty work. She only cut out the frontal and temporal lobes. She wanted to leave the grouping of neurons that controlled Erik’s powers largely intact, to save Rogue time in learning or relearning the use of her new powers. But she also cut severely. She wanted all of Erik’s memories amputated from him. He had led a tragic life, and she didn’t want any of it going into Rogue.

 

Erik came to during the procedure. He slurred his words and rattled his chains. Raven ignored him.

 

“Is this on Xavier’s behalf? I thought the knife he’d placed in your back was big enough to cut out your love for him.”

 

“Please. I still remember the sick brain behind ‘the dream,’ and that prissy schoolmarm he left me for. Your mistake is in thinking that you’re the only other option. Done,” she said, when the gray matter was thrown away and she’d veiled Erik’s surgery from sight with a linen napkin. “Hurry, Marian. Get all you can before he dies.”

 

Rogue came immediately when called; perhaps she’d been listening just a little. She put her hand on Erik’s, squeezing it as if to comfort him, even as the veins grew, trying to carry the load Erik’s body told them was going to the point of contact.

 

As he died, Raven stared into Erik’s glossy eyes. Abruptly, she was Scott. “I wanted to tell you something before you go,” she recited flawlessly in his voice. “For the longest time, you’ve had the luxury of thinking in black and white. Humans and mutants. God’s will and disobedience. But we weren’t chosen by God. We were made in a lab. Knock-off Captain Americas. There’s no more special about us than there is anyone else. So every time you killed one of them, you might as well have been killing one of us. If it’s hard to live with that, don’t worry. You won’t have to for long.”

 

Erik stared straight ahead. As Raven turned back, she thought it hadn’t registered. Then his eyes twitched. Crying without tears. “God forgive me.”

 

“Don’t worry. We’ve set up a meeting.”

 

“Please, Raven… please… _The eyes may be fooled by a woman’s disguise, but the heart never fails to recognize…_ ”

 

Raven was almost unmoved, her scales a cold, blue dark. But after a moment, the change begun. And then she was Pietro.

 

Erik’s brain, damaged beyond repair, could not tell who the boy was, nor could he even remember that the body he was observing had so recently been Mystique. But he could still feel a slight comfort—just enough to drown out the pain as his powers were pulled from the very chromosomes of his cells.

 

Erik had long expected to die, but he’d never expected to find peace before he did.


	2. Chapter 2

Scott laid into the punching bag, each blow sending a jolt of pain through his wrapped knuckles and a shockwave of sound through the gym. He knew he should’ve taken a break by now, that he was liable to injure himself if he continued another hour, but that knowledge changed nothing. He was full of energy, too much energy to contain. Only it wasn’t Banshee; he couldn’t wait for it to leave his system. It was guilt.

 

He heard the click of Mystique’s heels, announcing herself. She entered the gym, looking around, clocking its abandonment. Only Scott stood in the dark hallows, pushing himself. Trying to outrun what had happened. She went onto the mat, shifting to her bare feet, and held the bag for Scott to drive his fists into.

 

“They bought it,” she said. “For the most part. Forge scanned the Internet. Only the usual conspiracy nuts believe Magneto is anywhere but where we said he is—at large, a sleeper agent, ready to strike again if a move is made against Genosha. And the Brotherhood? If they suspect anything, they’re too loyal or too scared to say otherwise. It all worked out.”

 

Scott’s knuckles thudded into the bag, rocking it into Raven. “Not for New York.”

 

“That crowd? They love a catastrophe now and then. Makes them feel special.”

 

Scott’s next blow almost knocked the bag through Raven. “Then you got everything you want.”

 

“Erik was a great man—“ Raven protested.

 

“You wanted him gone—“

 

“He was never going to step down—“

 

“You wanted this! His power in Rogue, who you’ve got under your thumb, maternally, erotically. His leadership in _me…_ ”

 

“And do I have you, Scott?” Raven let go of the bag, walking around it. She gave it a push, letting it swing on its rusty chain. “That’s fine for grunt work. Want to try something that’ll hit back?” She shifted, becoming Xavier. “Someone?” Magneto. “Anyone?”

 

He just stared until she went back to herself. Then he feinted. She easily batted the weak blow aside. “Guess the relationship’s getting a little stable for us to still be doing role-play…”

 

“Did you know about the bomb?” He jabbed at her. She ducked aside. “The ambush?”

 

“I’m a survivor, Scott. I wouldn’t risk myself that way.”

 

“Unless it was the only way to get Pietro out of the picture.” He jabbed again. She dodged, but her felt his fist passing through her hair. “The heir apparent. One of the only people Erik still cared about.”

 

“A psychopath, just like his old man.” Mystique’s leg flicked out, catching Scott lightly in the shin. He hobbled back, fists up, guarding. “You rely too much on your optic blasts. You should practice more with your body. Guns, knives—they’d be useful to you.” She tapped her skull. “Everything’s up here with you…”

 

“Not enough. I didn’t see the bomb coming—“

 

“You did.”

 

“—not soon enough.”

 

Raven came for him, throwing an aggressive punch. Too aggressive. He weaved out of the way, caught her body in a hold, his hands flowing over her scaly body before tightening on her, pressing her cool flesh to his sweat-soaked warmth. She groaned as he locked down on her. “I wouldn’t have risked Rogue. Can you believe that, if nothing else?”

 

“Did you want this? Raven, _do you want this?_ ”

 

She slipped free of him, swinging around behind his back, her knee jabbing into his spine. Scott went down on all fours, Raven spinning on top of him to lock up one arm and one leg with her unjointed body, holding herself aloft with one limb while she chained him with all the others.

 

“I want to survive. Do you believe that you leading us is my best chance?”

 

He couldn’t reply. Just struggled, fruitlessly, against her hold. Until he finally overwhelmed her, rolling them across the mat. But she’d already compensated for his superior strength. As they rolled, she fell behind him, trapping him in a chokehold, legs around his, left arm around his. His right hand was free, and with a herculean effort, he got it back far enough to grab a lock of unsecured hair. He didn’t pull on it, though. He hung onto it with a clenched fist.

 

Raven’s lips were by his ear. “You can be a great leader, Scott. Better than Charles or Erik ever were. If I doubted it, I would lead them myself. You can do what I can’t. _You can keep my daughter safe.”_

And she let go of him.

 

Scott moved over her in an instant, pinning her on her back with his hands crushing her arms, his knees holding down her lower body. “Why should I believe you?”

 

She waited a moment before smiling. “You shouldn’t. I’m an untrustworthy bitch who just killed her last boss. But you should at least believe how useful I am.”

 

“Yeah.” Scott jerked down his zipper. “You are.”

 

Raven spread her legs.

 

In one unrelenting lunge, Scott plunged more than half of himself into Raven. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her surrendering body shuddering from head to toe as he shot deep inside her. It felt like sparks were flying from her pussy, sparks that landed in her blood, burned in her nerves, set fires in her brain. Every sweating, quivering inch of her now tingled with his entrance. She shook her head in disbelief as he pulled back a ways, then rammed the rest of his cock into her.

 

“I love it!” she finally shrieked, after her lips had moved soundlessly for over a minute.

 

He thrust into her again and again, completely ravishing her with each stroke, each blow seeming to throw her across the mat like a pile of rags. But it wasn’t enough for his rage, his need. He pulled out of Raven, to her wailing dismay, spun her onto her belly, pulled her to her hands and knees, and jammed himself back inside her from behind like she was a bitch in heat.

 

He was shaking as he fucked her. He saw the bomb go off, the vibrant red spiking his eyeballs as he blasted Magneto, the corpse as they disposed of it, the picture of Xavier’s body on TMZ—he saw everything and the emotions spread out underneath him, bigger than his whole body, like he was treading water in a vast underground lake. Only the water wasn’t cold. It was boiling hot. He was burning up and the only thing to do was to pour himself into Mystique, jam her up with all his pain and anger, hear her take it, enjoy it.

 

On some level, he wanted her to refuse. Knock him away like he knew she would if he displeased her for an instant, tell him what a sick freak he was to be feeling these things—pity for a mass murderer, pain over his death, anger with the woman he slept with. But she took all of it and more. Like she wanted it as much as he did. Needed it.

 

“I love your fat cock—love the way you’re fucking me—“ Pleasure swept over her like a tidal wave, moving from her sorely abused bottom up to her screaming mouth. She reached under herself, grabbing the backs of her thighs, knotting herself up to help him fuck her. Scott plunged into her and she crushed herself back against him, punching his cock so deep into her sex she almost thought it would stay there forever. “I love—I love—“

 

She froze. The pleasure smoldered, caught fire, and exploded. She was lost, barely feeling the cum he fired deep inside her. It was the first thing she became aware of when she caught her breath, though. She could feel it dripping out of herself.

 

Scott felt himself breath. It seemed easier all of a sudden. He’d let everything out, purged himself like he hadn’t even with Jean, and yet Raven wasn’t surprised, wasn’t shocked. She looked impressed, almost. Pleased.

 

“No condom,” she said. Scott was slumped beside her. “You might’ve knocked me up.”

 

“You expect me to believe you’re not on the pill?”

 

“They hardly work—not with all the changes I put my body through.”

 

Scott shook his head. “It was worth it. And Raven?”

 

She looked at him, finding him meeting her eyes with one of those looks. A look that told her what people would never understand. He wasn’t a puppet, a figurehead, someone she manipulated. He was a weapon. He just needed her to aim him best.

 

“I love fucking you too,” he said. They both knew what he meant.

 

She settled against him; collapsed into him. His side. Turning him over so she could press herself into his spine. It felt stronger. “The Brotherhood will start asking questions soon.”

 

“They were always going to.”

 

“All it takes is one splintering. We lose our unity, we lose our power—“

 

“We lost that the day we gave into infighting with Xavier.”

 

“Shadows need light,” Raven said obliquely. “But too many lights make weak shadows. The strongest, the blackest, are cast from one source.”

 

“I can’t keep people here if they don’t want to be.”

 

“You won’t have to. Use the tools at your disposal.”

 

“Oh?” Scott put his hand on Raven’s thigh, tracing that little pubic region where the scales spaced out, grew scarce, became the smooth flesh of her groin. “What tool would that be?”

 

Raven smiled, mirroring him almost more than reflecting herself. “A witch… Wanda helped you kill her father. _That’s_ loyalty you can’t buy. But she did it for love. Which is unfortunate.”

 

“If I break her heart, she tells the truth?” Scott paused. “I won’t move against her—“

 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Lord, you give them eyes, but they do not see… _recruit her,_ Summers. Pull her into your corner.” She moved her lips over his jawline, up to his ear. “Pour sweet nothings into her ear, and she’ll be yours.”

 

“I don’t love her.”

 

“Did Jean love you?” She kissed his cheek. “Having you will be enough, Scott.”

 

“It’s not fair to her. Not right.”

 

“Marriages are human invention. So is love. She wants to be used, so use her. Marry the bitch. The Brotherhood will fall in line behind her. You’ll have your kingdom, your queen,” Mystique smiled against his cheek, “ _and the power behind the throne._ ”

 

“I said no.” He looked over at her as she wrapped her arms around his chest, her deep breaths coming against his back. “Or don’t you listen to your king?”

 

“I’ll listen. Can’t promise I’ll obey. Keep your hands as clean as you like. I’ll do it for you. Break her in so you can ride her to the top.”

 

“She just lost her father.”

 

“Then someone should comfort her.”

 

“I forbid it.”

 

“You do?” Raven asked, mockingly wide-eyed. “Scott… we were sparring before. It wasn’t a real fight.” Her arms were suddenly at his throat, her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him in place as she choked off his air. “Neither is this, I suppose.”

 

“Raven!”

 

Her grip didn’t tighten. It was already just hard enough. “Don’t fight it. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with her. She’s going to think you’re an amazing lover. Maybe a bit better endowed than the real thing. What can I say, I’m egotistical. When I imagine people thinking my man has a real _weapon_ between his legs...”

 

Scott’s eyes rolled up. He was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Wanda sat with her legs over the edge of the cliff. Though the winds were strong, she wasn’t afraid of falling. The probabilities weren’t there. She wasn’t Magneto after all. They’d thrown him over the side, weighted down,  body burned beyond recognition. And his only tombstone was the white tide on the jagged rocks. He’d hit one on the way down.

 

“I’d say it’s harder, grieving on your own—but you’re always on your own.”

 

Wanda looked back, eager to see Scott. His smile wasn’t like the others. It was reassuring. Not predatory. Not damaged. “Not always. You were like a son to him.”

 

Scott stopped a few feet from her. He looked out at the setting sun. Wanda wondered if it was still red through his visor. “I do want to do right by him.”

 

“It’s not fair. I don’t think it’s fair. The people who know he’s gone think he’s a monster. Only the people who don’t know think he was a good man.”

 

“I don’t think of him as a monster. His time came, that’s all. He outlived the good in himself.”

 

“And I killed him… is there still good in me, if I think of the state of my own soul after sending his on?”

 

Scott stepped closer, folding his arms across her shoulders, almost holding her to him. A part of her rejoiced in his touch. Another questioned it. She’d known Scott Summers a long time—observed him at a distance. His touch didn’t come so easily. So cheaply.

 

“Everything Erik did,” Scott said, his voice smooth—loving, “was so that his children could have purer souls than their father. What you did was an act of mercy. Right now, he’s proud of you. And so am I.”

 

“Scott… I can’t talk about him right now. Keep holding me. Tell me something else.”

 

He held her tighter. “He wanted us to be together. What do _you_ want?”

 

“I want to be held. I just want to be held…”

 

His hand drifted to her breast. It was so warm… and she was so cold.

 

“I want that too.”

 

If Wanda had removed Scott’s visor, she’d see his eyes flashing yellow.

 

***

 

Scott awoke bound and gagged, stuffed in the locker room of the complex’s gym. It was unlikely he’d be discovered soon. He didn’t struggle or try to yell. He’d expected to awake in such circumstances. Dreamed of them.

 

He tested his bonds, of course. Shouted for help through the gag. Neither were of much utility. If Mystique could be trusted for anything, it was professionalism.

 

No. Not just professionalism, but the greater good, the cause, mutantkind itself. She was faithful to that to the point of zealotry. A faith even greater than Magneto’s; uncorrupted by petty hate, or pain, or trauma. She simply _was._ An apex predator. And that he could trust to. She would always act in the Brotherhood’s best interest, and in his so long as he was aligned with theirs. Not a moment longer.

 

That was comforting, somehow.

 

He found her predator’s heart easier to trust than anyone else’s humanity.

 

***

 

Raven heard groans and cries—Wanda’s as well as Scott’s. She could look down and see Scott’s hard cock invading Wanda’s cunt, dark-haired and red in her dusky skin. Scott’s balls shook, heavily-laden, each time his penis moved into Wanda’s yielding sex, her accepting core.

 

Raven looked on, entranced. From here, she could see _everything._ How the labia opened up to embrace its own invasion; the light moisture that clung to the shaft and glimmered with each pull back into the light. The stray hairs that caressed the cock as it thrust in, were torn asunder as it pulled out, and caught the shaft again upon its insertion.

 

Wanda Maximoff was thrown below Raven and Scott, her dark body shaded further by her bedroom’s low lights and drawn curtains, but bright with sweat. Her curly hair spread over the white bedspread, infiltrating it with further shadow. Above her, Scott too shone with sweat. Raven considered the interplay of light and darkness to be quite artistic. She wished she had a camera. Instead, she had a mirror.

 

She looked up from Wanda’s well-fucked body to see Scott in the mirror, loving Wanda like the reflection was Raven’s own private porno. The witch’s eyes were closed, her mouth open in a continual moan, accepting over and over again the pleasure Scott had to give her. Scott took it greedily, playing with her lascivious breasts in all their curving glory, his sharp hips similarly striving into her wide thighs.

 

The woman was uniquely voluptuous; unlike her brother, she did not take after her slender father, but had inherited the dark features and lush figure of her Roma mother, a famed beauty. Raven remembered her. She wished she had bedded the woman before her untimely death. But bedding the daughter was no distant second.

 

Raven smiled at Scott in the mirror; he, of course, smiled back, loving how Wanda writhed against his manhood with little twitches and wiggles meant to exquisitely swallow him, over and over again. And she loved watching him. His body was so perfect; and everything felt so good in his skin.

 

Mystique truly loved sharing Wanda with him.

 

***

 

Toad dropped the bong as soon as he saw Scott. “Jesus Christ, mate! What all are you doin’ in here? This some sorta thing you and Rave got cooked up? Blimey, you want me to move along then and forget I saw nuthin’?”

 

Scott shook his head, calmly and emphatically. Toad took his meaning.

 

“Oh. Oy! This a problem then, yeah? Fuck-a-doo, my son, let’s have you out of there!” He rushed to Scott, ungagging him with his tongue as his fingers dove into the knots tying him. “What a cock-up! What a great bloody fuck-all!”

 

“Relax, Mort. It’s personal.”

 

“Ay, you and Rave then? Figgured as much. That’s one bloomin’ bad headcase to have on yer knob. Not that I’d skip out on her bed! Be a good lad and tell me if she’s blue all over? She innit, is she?”

 

“No. The inside of her mouth is red.” Scott stood, kicking loose the last of the ropes and massaging feeling into his sore extremities. The circulation returned fast. Raven had gone a good job of tying him. “Where’s Wanda?”

 

“Oi nutter, her too? Bloomin’ hell, no wonder Rave’s so ticked at you! Not that I blame you, anyone’s earned a helping of strange it’s you, I’ve no doubt, but couldn’t ya just ask Scales to make a witch of herself? Seems like the sort of trouble she’d be into.”

 

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Scott ordered his friend, gathering up the rope to take with him.

 

“My lips are sealed, mate. I only came here looking for a private place for a huff ‘n’ puff. Tell me, you don’t plan on coming back here, d’ya? I’d hate to be interrupted ag’in. I’ve already taken some pills.”

 

“The only reason I’ll be coming back is to share.” Scott started for the exit. “It’s shaping up to be that kind of day.”

 

***

 

Scott found them in his quarters, of course. He walked inside, heard the chorus of _fuck-me_ -s, his own exerted grunts, and made his way to the bedroom. The door was open wide. The bed, its sheets still smelling of the Rogues, their mother, and his own seed, now held Wanda and Raven.

 

Mystique had a good eye for his body, an excellent familiarity with his motion. The only way he could tell it wasn’t him was that he would never have fucked Wanda. But there they were, Raven-him on his back, Wanda atop him, her face taking his cock to the hilt, his kissing her cunt with pure passion.

 

“Raven, get off her,” Scott said wearily.

 

Wanda looked up from her work, his own cock slipping from her lips. She looked momentarily confused. Her fingers held the swollen cock away from her mouth so she could speak. “Scott?”

 

“The genuine article. I’m sorry, Wanda. Raven is trying to… romance you. Get you on our team. I wouldn’t care, except she’s using my body—your feelings—to do it.” Scott hated how flustered, how out of place he felt. “She’ll be punished for deceiving you this way, I promise you that.”

 

“Punished?” Wanda climbed off Raven, but continued to hold her cock like a leash. She sat cross-legged on the mattress while Raven stayed down, her grin quirking her borrowed features. “Can I watch?”

 

“What?”

 

“Can I watch you punish her?” Wanda gave Raven’s cock a stroke. “How do you intend to do it, anyway? Paddle? Whips? Maybe fuck her in the ass until she’s learned her lesson? It should be something you enjoy more than her, of course. That’s entirely your decision.”

 

“Wanda…” Scott pointed at the other him. “That is not me! It’s Mystique posing as me!”

 

“I know.” Wanda tapped her forehead. “Almost a hundred percent probability that someone would try it. I just didn’t know if it’d be you or her. When she came, I knew it was her. I read people very easily, Scott. You’re not the touchy-feely type. She was. Very touchy. Very feely.”

 

“Don’t you _care_?” Scott demanded.

 

“Of course.” Wanda pumped Raven harder, making her groan half in Scott’s voice, half in her own. “I care that my father and brother were both overprotective control freaks. I care that daddy was a great man, but the only way he could’ve been a worse father was if he touched my bathing suit area. Then again, at least that would be _some_ attention. I’m free now, Scott. No more sneaking around behind daddy’s back. Now I can fuck the entire Brotherhood if I want.” She smiled. “Not that I want to. In fact, I can only think of two.”

 

Scott shook his head. “I don’t… understand. I thought…”

 

Raven sat up, still in his body, but her expression uniquely her own. She took off the visor to let out her yellow eyes. “Turns out the little bitch has some of her father in her after all. She sniffed me out in five minutes. She’s willing to go along with our plans, but she wants something in return.”

 

“Multiple somethings,” Wanda smirked. “Screaming, squirting ones.”

 

“And I’m guessing she’s going to ask more from you than waiting outside and making the bed when we’re done.”

 

Wanda nodded. “Brand X is nice and all—but I want to try the real thing.”

 

“Come on, Scott. I really am having trouble satisfying her. Her cunt’s so hot, I bet she hasn’t had a decent fuck all year. Maybe two cocks will be enough for her.”

 

“It’s a start,” Wanda agreed. “And Raven, keep wearing him. Sorry, but blue isn’t my favorite color.”

 

In all his whirling confusion, Scott felt his prick throbbing powerfully. He still couldn’t believe Wanda was some kind of wanton slut. Or that she was turning him on so forcefully.

 

“Oh, Scott’s being conflicted again,” Raven said in a mock-dismayed tone. “Maybe we should give him a little preview of what will happen when he gives in.” Wanda’s soft wet mouth fell around her cock once more. “Like we know he will… ooohh…”

 

Scott watched as Wanda’s eyes fluttered close, excitement stealing across the passionate features of her beautiful face. Her blood-red lips opened wide, her white teeth flashed in the darkness of her mouth, and then every vein of his cock disappeared down her supplicating throat.

 

To Scott, it felt as if he were having an out-of-body experience—dreaming one of those dreams where he could see himself moving, living. He could almost feel what Raven felt, make the same noise as her fleshy moan, hear the soft wet whisper of the blowjob from one step removed. _Suck it,_ he found himself thinking with a helpless intake of breath. _Suck my cock._

Proving she had in no way exaggerated her experience, Wanda’s kiss traveled the length of Raven’s assumed cock, until her tongue was snaking out upon Raven’s belly and the balls pushed up under her chin. Raven’s abs clenched and loosened as she moved herself inside Wanda’s mouth, the bristling black hairs of her groin rubbing against Wanda’s nose.

 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Raven moaned, Scott’s voice pitched in her own low register. She lifted one thigh, turned to the side to put her cock in deeper. Sucking echoed inside Wanda’s mouth, her cheeks flushed with passion. She drew her head back, polishing Raven’s dick with her lips, until five or six inches were in the air, oozing with her saliva. “You’ve got to try her mouth, Scott—she could teach _me_ a thing or two!”

 

No longer able to control herself with Wanda’s lips at the end of her cock, its length almost abandoned, Raven humped her manhood into Wanda’s sucking mouth. It was incredible for Scott to see that fury in his own body. Raven jackknifed in and out of Wanda, hard, fast, until her cock was slurping through Wanda’s straining lips, saliva trickling down her wobbling chin. Her yellow eyes focused on Scott, and the hard-on jammed inside the tight confines of his trousers, trying desperately to join its twin in Wanda’s mouth.

 

“Jack it off!” she demanded, slipping out of character and wholly into her own feminine voice. “Jack that beautiful cock off! Make yourself come for me!”

 

Scott fired back an order: “Come in her mouth. Make her gag on it.”

 

Wanda was enthused to help fulfill Scott’s request. She clutched Raven’s ass with both hands and spiked herself on her prick. “Yes!” Raven shouted, the word barely heard before she came.

 

Wanda’s mouth was wide open, her tongue lolling out like a dog’s. Every drop of Raven’s ejaculation either went down her throat or landed on her tongue. Wanda held the jizz in her mouth, as best she could, until Raven finished. Then she swallowed it all in one massive gulp. Mewled with pleasure as it settled warmly in her stomach. Her tongue lashed the dripping head of Raven’s cock one last time before she let it escape, falling to her bed with her mouth still open, like it was meant to have a cock in it.

 

“Your turn, Scott.” Wanda licked her lips, swallowed again. Mewled with the taste. “Wanna see how you compare to the knock-off brand—do a taste test…” She crawled on all fours toward the edge of the bed and Scott. Saliva and a certain amount of precum was smeared on her chin, and her breasts swung pendulously between her arms as she crept up to him. “Give me the real thing, Scott! Make it real!”

 

Lost in himself, Scott stepped forward. He didn’t even feel his knees banging against the side of the mattress. Wanda rubbed her head against him like a cat wanting to be petted, her cheek brushing his burnished groin. He felt her hair between his waistline and shirt, soft and a little damp. Sweat.

 

“Give it to him, you bitch!” Raven cried happily, her fingers wrapped around the slow revival of her cock. She stroked evenly, tempering her excitement just barely. “You’ve had your practice. Now lick it for me, you little slut—lick that cock!”

 

Scott felt the hot kiss of Wanda’s breath on his groin. That was all the waiting the Scarlet Witch had in her. She grabbed his cock like she couldn’t stand to see it get away, licked him, kissed him, made him even longer and harder than he’d been before. Raven stood up on her knees for a closer look. Her hand was as tight around her prick as Wanda’s was on Scott’s.

 

Then Scott’s cockhead was as hot and wet as Wanda’s mouth. Her tongue tested the hardness of his shaft, trying to move it this way and that. But his cock was unerringly aimed down her throat. Wanda gave in, her teeth gently grating on him as she dove for the subtle drawing pressure building at the base of his dick.

 

Scott’s hands went to Wanda’s small, sloping shoulders, fingers tightening in her supple skin. He began to stroke himself in and out of the tight gates of Wanda’s lips, feeling her tongue’s fiction coursing over his stiff cock with its soft wet caress. It felt like she was trying to swallow him, right down to his balls.

 

“Couldn’t do it better myself,” Raven announced, somehow smug. She placed her hand on Wanda’s bobbing ass, her fingers slipping between the cheeks. Wanda stiffened, her teeth imprinting on Scott’s manhood before she grew used to the invasion.

 

Scott’s hands slid to Wanda’s head as if pulled there. He pushed her down on his cock, hard, fast, wanting to match his growing need with the pleasure her mouth gave him. Where Wanda’s back bent low, he could see over her ass. Raven’s fingers weren’t there anymore. They were collaring her dick, bringing it to Wanda’s entrance. Wanda thrust herself all the way to the base of Scott’s cock when Raven penetrated her. She wanted them both inside her—all the way.

 

Fisting her hands in Scott’s belt, Wanda began to physically push him away then pull him back to her as she moved her head in counterpoint, so his cock went all the way into her mouth—came all the way out. It became a dripping wet blur bridging her lips and his fly. And all while Scott heard the squish of her cunt taking Raven’s coital pistoning.

 

Wanda let loose a drawn-out moan, cut off continuously by the spasmodic drive of his prick down her throat. He felt her tongue in a frenzy on his swollen helmet, her throat drawing with all its strength on his cockhead when it dipped into her gullet. As if that weren’t enough, she was still crashing her sex back to Raven’s dick.

 

“She’s coming!” Raven shouted excitedly—Wanda’s juices running in lines down the bulging muscles of her thighs. “Oh—the sweet little bitch! I can feel her coming on your cock, Scott! Her cunt’s getting so tight…!”

 

Wanda cried “Oh-oh-oh!” with her words barely escaping from her pursed lips. Her desperation only grew, sucking Scott needfully, using all her determination to steal his semen from his balls. She’d set the rhythm she wanted with her push and pull on Scott—him fucking her mouth, hard and deep—so now he took over for her as she buckled down to enjoy her climax. He moved his hands down to her cheeks, holding her face almost tenderly still for his fucking. When he slid into her, he could feel the vibrations of her moans against his cock.

 

Raven mirrored Scott’s motions, slamming herself hard into Wanda’s oversensitive core. The witch defensively tried to pull away from the overwhelming sensation, but there was nowhere to go but into Scott’s body. She took every inch of his engorged erection down her throat, nearly gagging several times. Then, looking up into Scott’s eyes, she came once more.

 

Scott petted her hair as he stared across at his own naked body. Raven had her hands on Wanda’s hips and was relishing the sweat that ran over her flesh like sleet as she drilled her cock into Wanda. Scott could see the dark tufts of hair at her crotch turn red over the twin globes of Wanda’s ass—Raven losing control of the morph. She moaned and smiled at Scott, her face a cracking mask of pleasure. Blue was spreading over her façade like a bruise.

 

“Come with me, Scott! We’re the same! The same!”

 

Wanda’s climaxing, gripping body drew so taut that she bit down on his cock. When he came, he could feel the passageway constricted by the force of her jaw. And his orgasm forced it back open, widening her mouth before he filled it. He gushed out so powerfully that Raven had to hold her head against his belly, Wanda preemptively trying to escape from drowning in the wet throbs of his pleasure.

 

Colors flashed before his eyes; no shades of red.

 

Scott felt himself turn liquid, with a hole in the pressurized container of his skin.

 

All of him spilled hotly into Wanda’s greedy mouth.

 

Raven was herself again as she pulled Scott’s cock from the white mess of Wanda’s cunt. It flashed blue before shrinking into her clitoris; then she was flat on the bed, still holding to Wanda’s hips like she intended to keep fucking her. Scott didn’t move either, somehow beached upon the bedspread. His limp manhood was still between Wanda’s lips. She nursed on it like a candy, throat gulping down the last beads of his discharge.

 

The bed under them was wet with sweat and sperm. When Raven’s hand reached up and nested possessively in the center of Scott’s chest hair, it was cool and dry.

 

***

 

Raven burned so cold. In a blazing summer of a world, she was a little bit of winter Scott held in his arms. She’d understood Scott’s reluctance to be the little spoon.

 

“No hard feelings?” she asked, her head shifting, blood-red hair tickling Scott under his chin.

 

“None,” he told her. “All my sins… you’re just the punishment.”

 

Raven laughed. “Darling, haven’t you noticed? Sins aren’t punished in this world. They’re rewarded. So speaking of, why don’t we try that again? I’ll stay like this—less narcissistic on your part.”

 

“I’ll see if I can find some Banshee.”

 

“Fine by me,” Wanda said, returning from her quarters.

 

Her new costume was immodest in the extreme. The cape and headdress stayed the same, and Scott supposed the boots covered enough, coming up to Wanda’s thighs. As did the opera gloves, moving to her elbows. But her top was a cropped thing, not even covering her shoulders, just her breasts, her neck, and a little skin above her belly button. Her bottom covered even less, just a V of red from one hip to the other. Its crotch displayed the arc of her pubis. If he didn’t already know she was shaved bare, the skin on either side of the crotch-band would tell him so.

 

“What do you think?” she asked, giving them a turn. Raven applauded. Scott supposed by the standards of a woman who often went naked, it was high fashion.

 

“It’s striking,” he said, kissing Raven’s shoulder.

 

“I’ve had this three years,” she said. “Ever since that slut Hellcat started fighting crime on E! Needing her nipples blurred out every time she throws a punch—daddy never would’ve let me wear it. Pietro would’ve built a wall around me if I stepped outside in this. But they’re not here…” she concluded in a sing-song voice.

 

Wanda moved to the bed, sprawling beside Scott and Raven. She held an envelope in her hand—gave it to Scott.

 

“Daddy’s will. Since no one’s ever going to know he’s dead, you might as well read it now.”

 

Scott gave her a look, enough to urge her to silence, and opened the envelope. He held it in front of Raven as well; she ran her hand along his forearm as they read.

 

“Wanda gets everything,” Raven said. “No surprise there.

 

Scott’s priorities were elsewhere. “Last request. One of our brother mutants has a bastard child out there.”

 

“The old softy was keeping an eye on her…”

 

His strategizing with Raven was rapid-fire. “How old would she be by now?”

 

“Seventeen.”

 

“Past due to manifest.”

 

“If she even has powers.”

 

“We should at least check. Does it say where she lives?”

 

Raven grimaced. “Queens.”

 

In boredom, Wanda had been admiring her breasts in their new surroundings. Now her head shot up. “That’s in New York!”

 

They looked at her. “Fancy a vacation?”

 

“Daddy always said New York as a monument to man’s perversity and barbarism. Of course I want to go!”


End file.
